Dancing with Shadows
by Californian Poppy
Summary: To destroy yourself all but completely indicates pure love. But for Ginny, to reclaim the diary and release the spirit, love destroyed more than an innocent soul.
1. Default Chapter

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AUTHOR NAME: Californian Poppy

AUTHORS EMAIL: CalifornianPoppy@Hotmail.com

KEYWORDS: Tom Riddle, Ginny Weasley, angst, darkness.

RATING: 12 but will get much darker and probably head to around 18.

SUMMARY: To destroy yourself all but completely indicates pure love. But for Ginny, to reclaim the diary and release the spirit, love destroyed more than an innocent soul. 

SPOILERS: CoS.

DISCLAIMER: The characters the property of JK Rowling, and Warner Bros., respectively. I do not claim any ownership and am merely using them for my enjoyment and (hopefully) the enjoyment of others. 

AUTHORS NOTE: This is the prologue for what I hope to be my first completed chapter fic. As I am in the middle of a nasty set of exams called The Junior Cert., it will be all I am working on. All other fics are going to be gathering dust including the sequel to "Petit Noir" and my Draco and Harry fic, "Deochanna Croi" This is why reviews are crucial to the continuation. 

Stone melted into stone as the room spun in front of Tom's eyes. His legs shook as pangs of dizziness banged across his skull. Giving up on his pitiful strength, he fell knees first onto damp stone ground. 

He choked out a ragged piercing cough. Blood sprayed onto the flagstones. Gripping a nearby chair, the only furniture in the bare damp room, he leveled himself, testing his legs before properly standing.

Again the world formed into a whirlwind spinning around his head as Tom crashed down cracking his head off the handle. He blacked out for a minute, before coming to, sprawled upon the floor, the chair in a heap beside him. 

He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the offending article. Raising his slender fingers, he muttered a small curse under his breath. It stayed in one piece; still lying untouched beside him.

He raised himself slightly and watched the seat with cold eyes. Suddenly he flung his arms out.

"Incendio!" he bellowed, expecting an inferno to match his rage. Not even a puff of smoke emitted from his shaking digits.

Tom stared at his hands, confusion setting in as he tried to comprehend this conundrum. He had long ago learned to practice magic without the unreliable use of a wand, believing that relying on a stick of charmed wood revealed weakness, something he loathed. Also, he enjoyed the frightened looks of his dueling partners when, his wand lying useless in a corner, they found themselves wheezing on the floor.

He turned back to his wooden opponent, fury boiling around his eyes, which were flashing red. He dived, smashing down upon the chair, the wood splintering beneath the force of his blows. Pain began to shoot up his arms as splinters embedded themselves into his knuckles but he kept at it until the broken pine was stained scarlet from the blood dripping from his bruised hands. 

"Oh Tom."

It could have been an angel's sweet tone, but he did not believe in such beings. Bringers of good didn't have much use in his world. 

A child's soft white hands began to stroke his bleeding fingers and he pulled back while red lips planted kisses across his torn knuckles.

"Better?" she purred. Tom finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

Almond brown flecked with black and framed with locks of red hair, they evoked a nasty case of Deja vu.

"Recognize me?" The girl tilted her head to the ground, shielding her eyes with her lashes.

Tom looked her up and down noting subtle differences. Her body was curvier than he had seen her last. Less freckles too. Her hair was also sporting a better cut so it curved around her face more. But something else was gnawing at him for attention; a difference not usually attributed to age, which he averaged at about sixteen plus.

"Ginny," he whispered as the sun suddenly shone, "Ginny Weasley, left the scrawny waif look behind, huh? He relaxed and raised himself, leaning against the wall. This was familiar territory.

She stared at the small splashes of blood and didn't answer.

"I knew you would come back for me, I knew you wouldn't leave me." He mentally willed her to look up, one flutter of his eyes and she would be his again.

"Do you know what I gave up for you?" she said so abruptly that Tom was taken back. This was wrong; she'd never spoken to him like this. That numb tone was not right at all. 

So what had she given up… Virginity was a main one; girls liked giving that to him, still, he was almost certain he'd never taken her.

"Girls have given up their lives for me, what have you?" His voice was tinged with menace. This was where conversation should be, under his control.

Ginny flashed her eyes towards him, boring into him and tom got a shock. Beneath her lashes half hidden by her eyelids was a difference that struck him. They had lost their sparkle, that childhood hope that a hug could cure everything. They were dark now, world weary and circled with shadows. They should belong to an old woman, not to a sixteen-year-old girl.

"Have they ever given up their innocence?" Her voice was dangerously quiet.

"No," he admitted. The girls had been gagging for it, innocence was hardly a matter, "But you took my magic, you had no right to it."

Her lips curved into a cold tired smile. "Merely a precaution, you can have it back. Soon."

"How did you do it?" He was curious, this was powerful magic, he could almost taste it.

"The same way I brought you back, I just left it in the diary." She produced the diary and left it hang loose between her thumb and forefinger. Tom lunged for it but Ginny raised it.

"I see you shaking," she said, "You can barely stand." She ran a finger over his brow where droplets of sweat were beginning to form. 

"How did you do it? Only I had the power to remove myself from the diary, only my will could make me real." His voice was raspy. She was right; he barely had enough power to stand.

"Your will was based on the thirst for power, there are other ways, ones which you have yet to discover their existence." She gazed at the cover, running her fingers over the gold engraving.

"Explain," Ginny stared at him and he cringed under her gaze; it knew too much.

"Love," she said simply, "I loved you dearly all my life ever since your words first appeared, and it was through this love that you are standing here today."

Tom was silent after this speech. This destroyed all his beliefs, things like love…. It had no place for him, yet here was a mere girl standing here saying it was stronger than all of his power.

"What did you give up for me?" His voice was horse.

"My innocence, but I kept my heart with you always." Shiny pathways began to roll down her cheeks, but she still kept her composure.

"What hardships you suffered," it wasn't a question, only a statement, but Ginny answered gently.

"To bring you back was worth everything, although I am not sure you were worth it."

"Tell me."

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Final Note: The title "Dancing with shadows" has a hidden meaning, if you can guess it, include it with your review.


	2. Dancing with Shadows 2

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Author: Californian Poppy

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Author email: Californianpoppy@hotmail.com

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Rating: still 12…

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Summary: To destroy yourself all but completely indicates pure love. But for Ginny, to reclaim the diary and release the spirit, love destroyed more than an innocent soul. 

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Disclaimer: The characters the property of JK Rowling, and Warner Bros., respectively. I do not claim any ownership and am merely using them for my enjoyment and (hopefully) the enjoyment of others. 

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Author's Note: This is to clear up the confuasion: The last chapter was the prologue… this is the first chapter. This is before the affair with Tom and Ginny, all else will be explained in later chapters, don't want to give it away!

Water dripped gently down the cracks in the dungeon wall. It mixed with the moss, causing green rivers to form, flushing out the various dreadful creatures that scuttled around, attempting to stick to the wall with creepy tentacles and suckers; the results of long forgotten experiments. Lucius enjoyed the faint crack of their backs as the oddities fell with a splat onto the floor. Only the faint moaning of pain marked their brief existence. He encouraged them by leaving scraps of potion-laden bread around the dungeon.

A scaled, tentacled, blood eyed rodent crawled sideways across his hand, as he stared at the battered and torn book. 

"Show me your secrets Tom," he whispered, as the creature shot off from the table and melted into a little ooze on the floor. He turned and added a tick to a nearby parchment without even lifting his eyes from the encrusted diary. "Anthrax=Explosion+Melting." He smiled; it was good to have hobbies. 

He picked up his quill again and prodded the diary, scraping away at the faint gold lettering with the nib until they shone. T.M Riddle, the cause and solution to all of his problems. He stroked the cover so that the grime came away with a streak. Black binding showed beneath the brown and faded red of old blood, Harry Potter's blood. He snarled, useless to use in any spell or potion, still it felt good to breath in the stale scent of him… soon he hoped, he would get a fresh smell. He licked his lips at the thought… Harry Potter struggling with a chest wound helpless and dying, Hopefully in a lot of pain. He looked at the name again.

"You're going to help me aren't you." It wasn't a question, however he received a very unwanted answer.

"He won't you know" it was hoarse, delivered right into his head, ignoring the usefulness of ears. "He is out for himself." 

"He can be forced… master" He gulped.

"No, I think I may be the expert here, his will cannot be bent. He'll be an enemy more than a friend." His voice became smoother as the connection became stronger. Lucius visibly cringed,

"An enemy, to my great lord surely he will side with…" He buckled under the surge of magic.

"You stupid fool," it snapped, "Riddle will side with no-one but himself. He has the same ambition as me, to be a great and powerful master. He will be a rival to me, although useful in destroying the none-believers, never the less in my weakened state I will not be able to… stop him taking the rest." 

"There must be a way… everyone has a weakness." He gripped the table waiting for the onslaught.

"Are you saying I have a weakness, Malfoy?" 

"No, no of course not, it's just…" he licked his lips nervously. Another creature hanging off the ceiling with various arms and small eyestalks fell with a pop onto his desk. "We need him!"

"Yes, I can see your point, our forces are not as… numerous as they once were." Lucius tensed, letting out a small murmur as his head felt it would explode. Even though he couldn't see him, he could feel Voldemort's evil smirk. 

"My lord, please… show me the key, we will destroy all these Mudbloods and you can take your rightful place."

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Trapped in twilight if you had your way… still, I'll let Tom have his fun. 

"Very well… Children, that is the key."

Lucius frowned slightly, "Children?"

"Their power, he feeds off their essence, only a child has that in abundance."

"He kills them?" Lucius could feel shivers coursing up his back; his father had been evil but this…

"No, but they don't survive for long afterwards. Now that you know how to crack it, are you still going to pursue it?"

"I have a son, a keen student of the… noble arts, he'll help."

"You realize that he won't survive?"

"All war must have casualties, I'll give him the book to study." He could almost taste the power that vibrated around the book.

"You will keep me in formed." It wasn't a request.

"Of course master." But his head was already removed of the burden. A small ladybird like creature buzzed around his head then disappeared in a burst of ashes which rained down on the floor. Lucius's features twisted into a smile and he walked towards the door. 

"Draco," He barked, "Come here at once." A slug like creature bumped into his foot and exploded in a burst of showered stars.


	3. Later

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Title: Dancing with Shadows (3-?)

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Author: Californian Poppy

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Author email: Californianpoppy@hotmail.com 

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Rating: still 12…

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Summary: To destroy yourself all but completely indicates pure love. But for Ginny, to reclaim the diary and release the spirit, love destroyed more than an innocent soul. 

**__**

Disclaimer: The characters the property of JK Rowling, and Warner Bros., respectively. I do not claim any ownership and am merely using them for my enjoyment and (hopefully) the enjoyment of others. The lyrics are property of Adam Cohen.

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Author's Note: This should clear up all the unfortunate confusion about what I was doing switching from the T/G scene to Lucius proving his evilness… As for the lyrics, I'm listing to the Dawson's Creek soundtrack 1 at the moment, while writing actually, it's become my muse. The music is really soft with a dark background; which rather suits this. In fact, all lyrics included in this fic will be from Dawson's Creek, so even if you don't like the show (I definitely don't) check out the CD! 

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Later

You find a rose  
And cut your finger on a thorn  
So go on and cry Ophelia  
It's the only thing to do sometimes  
You know I'm crying too  
Right there with you

It's alright Ophelia

Everybody cries Ophelia 

~ Cry Ophelia, Adam Cohen

The setting sun shone gold, casting pale shadows across Draco's bed. He sat crossed legged on his sheets and stared at the silver mirror, a present from Vlad the Impaler to one of his many ancestors. He scowled at the reflection and tossed his head to the side, letting his blond hair lie in a sheet on his cheek. 

"DRACO, you better be studying." Lucius's clear-cut voice shattered through his eardrum and he winced.

"All right, don't have to shout," He frowned and sat violently upright so the strands got in his eyes.

"Bloody father," he muttered and pushed his hair back from his face. "Why can't he do his own dirty work?" He sighed bitterly and swung himself upside down so that he faced under his bed. Piles of school books and long forgotten pieces of parchment in which the name "Draco Malfoy" was scrawled hesitantly in black crayon lay under his four-poster, hidden by the folds of black sheets. The newest addition to the motley collection lay face down in the dust. Draco reached out one pale hand and snatched it up creating a cloud of dust among the forgotten articles. He sneezed and swung the right way round still scowling. 

"T. M. Riddle" He read aloud, "Why does my father find such interest in you?" He shook it, expecting to find some of the pages come loose. It stayed intact and he was intrigued. 

"Strong little piece of junk aren't you. Your binding is falling off, your cover is damaged beyond repair and your gold engraving has turned to brown." Beneath his fingers the book shuddered gently and Draco stared. He ran his finger down the spine and felt a crackle of magic spurt up from the crumpled paper. Cautiously he opened it. It was blank and stained a thin hole coursed through the first twenty pages, and scarlet ink soaked through most of it. He tapped it with his wand and a little surge ran through his hand. 

"Power hungry as well… I'm starting to see Father's attraction." He raised his quill, hidden under the folds of his bed clothes and held it over the diary, letting a drop of ink splash and drain into the pages…

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Ginny stayed silent for a second too long and he leaned closer to her, inhaling her scent, fingertips itching with the need for the rest of the story. 

"Well? What did he do then?" She turned to him, face blank and closed. Suddenly, she raised her head quickly towards the door and let out a small exclamation. She hurriedly gathered up her wand and her cloak. Tom watched her, curious, "What are you doing?"

"I have to go now," the words broke Tom's concentration and the pictures held up by his mind; of Draco and his room, fell into dust. He stared up at her. Her face was pale and drawn, beads of sweat littered her face like diamonds, but her eyes stayed strong and cold… and empty. He reached for her arm and she flinched back.

"What about the rest, I want to hear it," His voice was too urgent for his liking; it showed she had the power. However, this was his story, he needed to know how she broke him free.

"Later Tom," she soothed, and stood to her feet, defiant and magnificent, "I'll be back later," 

He too tried to stand up, but his legs were wobbly and weak.

"Where are you going? Can you not stay here, finish the story…" She laughed, a low cruel chuckle, it cut through him like a knife. _Where was the carefree Ginny of old, who laughed like a bird, bright and tinkling? _

"Some of us have learning to do, lives outside dank shells of abandoned classrooms. I promise I will return, now please let me leave," She turned once more to the door, but Tom grabbed her back and held her tight against him.

"I won't let you go, I order you to stay here with me," He kissed her on the top of the head, then on her neck kisses falling hot like embers on her shoulders. For a minute she wielded to him, leaning against his grip that was strong in the heat of passion, then the spell broke and Ginny gently removed his hands. She stared at him mournfully before she ran her ice-cold fingers down his cheek. He held them there for a second before she took it back; he kept his and up by his face, savoring her warm touch. "I order you to…" his voice was hoarse with the raw emotions running through the room, unfamiliar emotions, "To…"

Ginny smiled quietly and kissed his cheek, "I will be back after dinner… I must go now, please don't be angry," 

He stared at her, dejected in his feelings, looking for all the world like a lil-boy-lost. "Don't… don't leave me, let me come with you," He reached for her hand.

"You can't come with me," her voice low and soft, "This is Hogwarts, you will be recognized and killed, I'll see you later." She squeezed his hand and drew away, his hand still clinging to hers until they drew too far apart and his fell to his side, white against the black of his robes. A warm light washed over the room as the door opened. She turned back to him briefly and mouthed; _Later,_ before a dark looming shadow washed over her and the door closed with a click.

Tom stared for a moment, before sitting down on a mattress lying against the wall.

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Later… 

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Another small quiz, apart from the fact no one has guessed quite right the first one: What is the shadow that covers Ginny… any ideas? 


	4. In the Minds Eye

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In the Minds Eye

Always know sometimes think it's me,

But you know, I know when it's a dream.

I think I know I mean a yes, but it's all-wrong,

That is I think I disagree. 

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~ Strawberry Fields.

Four boys stood, their heads lowered,_ in front of him. Black cloaks covered their faces, but beneath the hoods they were visibly shaking. He placed his white hand on each of the first three's shoulders, his blue veins were startelingly obvious through his pale skin. On the last figure, however, he hesitated and pulled off the hood. It contained a small, red headed girl. Her cheeks were awash with tears and her eyes, covered by their lids, were cast down onto the flagstones. His hand gripped her chin and pulled her head up so that her eyes met his. The Dark Mark was instantly visible on her cheek, next to her hollow eye sockets. _

Tom awoke with a silent scream. 

He began to shake his head violently to dispel the images within. But to no avail, the skull-like Ginny haunted him, scurrying around in the deep crevices of his mind, throwing open long locked doors with a giggle and a smirk. As memory after memory hit him, he began to rock back and forth, crooning every so often like an injured animal. 

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"Tom?" Lianna opened the door slowly, and looked uncertainly about herself. "Are you in here Tom? Th**e** Malfoys said you were and I have a slice of cake for you…" She trailed off as he appeared behind a stack of books. She let out a slight gasp as she realized he was only wearing his robes, which lay open, closed only across his chest by a serpent brooch.

He advanced towards her and took the plate. "Lianna," he purred**,** placing the plate on the desk, "My darling, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" One hand stroked her cheek, the other was hurriedly unbuttoning her dress. "Yes," he soothed, "When I first saw you I was mesmerized beyond belief. I knew I had to have you." 

Lianna at first stood still, shaking a little at his cold touch, but as the shock of seeing a naked man began to wear off, she began to struggle, pulling away from his grasp. "Let me go Tom! If you touch me again, I'll… I'll tell Dippet." 

"No, you won't," he shook his head to add emphasis, "My darling, you won't remember any of this." A wand and a quickly whispered word stilled her struggling. "Now, why don't you just lie down on this desk?" He brushed the paper off and the plate gave a sharp crack as it split in half. Outside, Tom could hear faint sniggering and knew that he wouldn't be disturbed for a long time…

"Stop," he wept as door after door crumbled in her, the giggling scarlet hell daemon of his own dreams, wake. Girl after girl, face after face, he could see them all so clearly. Lianna, Maria, Ariel… all names mixed into the large melting pot of his mind, all beautiful, young girls. All his, either giving themselves willingly, or "encouraged" by spells of his own invention. _Come into my parlor**,** said the spider to the fly_. He was always their first, he had to be**.** It was the thirty's, sex before marriage? An abomination for most people, but the orphanage was inter-denominational, or to put it another way, the owner was too lazy to teach church morals and left it up to adoptive parents to explain right from wrong. Tom was never adopted. 

Little girls crying in his mind eye, theywere nothing compared to the boys. First and second year angels, clear skin and big wide eyes, not yet touched by the adolescent ravages. Tom was the first to invent proper rent boys around the school, and had been proud of it at the time. However, her merciless laughing at the sniveling of the little fallen angels brought strong tears to his eyes. He had to blink rapidly as her mocking echoed around his head, bouncing off the many deep caverns, shedding light on so many unwanted thoughts. 

He began to shake, not from the pain of her, but from the icy cold that had collected around his bones. Beyond his blurred vision he could see a thick blanket, left there by Ginny**,** he suspected. However, he seemed unable to move and realized he was paralyzed, forced to sit crossed-legged forever, in a damp dungeon of a classroom. Forced to re-live old memories over and over again by a blind figure with red hair and a devilish grin. He suddenly realized that this must be what Azkaban was like and wondered if good people ever went mad, having less evil deeds to relive then those in the criminal sector. 

He was just pondering this, in the welcome silence**,** as she poked into a few corners and seemed to be searching for something in particular, when the door opened with a loud BANG. Unable to do much else, Tom just raised his head to see two moving mountains ambling towards him. They picked him up by the armpits and left him dangle there, looking to all the world like an oversized puppet. She peered out of his eyes and jumped a little at the figure that entered the open doorway, blocking the light. She scurried back into the labyrinth of his head and threw something upwards. Tom was suddenly struck by it, and peered closely at the figure. He was shorter yes, and his cheekbones were much more prominent, but the expression and cold sharp eyes were the exact same. If he was whom he suspected, then it would be he who would speak first.

"So this is the great Tom Riddle of Slytherin fame. My, I thought you'd be taller" Even the voice was uncanny.

"And let me guess, you're a Malfoy" He could feel her rummaging around and every so often an image would fly up. "My my, they've really left the family go to pot, if _you're _the only heir." The boy visibly bristled and stood up to his full height, which wasn't much taller then Tom, who knew that he'd reach six foot by age 20. 

"I have you know," the boy spat, "That my name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, and it was I who returned you to your pitiful existence." He smiled at the fury in Draco's eyes, Lucius had definitely taught him well. 

"You did? Well done boy, I'm sure your father must be very proud. I'm guessing it's something he couldn't manage himself," he faltered a little at this and turned wide-eyed to Tom.

"How do… you don't even know my father!" He had returned to his former bravado, and was smirking at him. Something Lucius had apparently forgotten to teach, _Never underestimate your opponent._

"I do, and your uncle. I knew them both very intimately at one point." Tom's lip curled as he stared at the boy confusion, "Bet you didn't know you had an Uncle, I suppose your father had him "disappear". I wouldn't be too surprised if he's still in your house somewhere, you should explore Malfoy Manor properly one of these days. I recommend you try the button underneath the fireplace in the drawing room, the one that is never lit." Draco seemed to have visibly shrunk. 

"But, father said he only knew you as a grown man… He said he met you in Romania, after he had finished school**.**" 

"He lied boy, did that ever occur to you? He always lied at school, he probably has been lying about his age ever since." Tom sighed at the boy's mistrust, "His brother, your missing uncle, was four years older then him. Not as clever or as devious by a long shot, but he had a streak of cruelty I have not yet seen matched. He also had the Malfoy good looks, and the body to attract any loose females, and while your father was quite handsome and eternally young, he was always a scrawny little thing. Didn't "pack it" if you understand my meaning. So there was always that sense of jealousy between the two. Lucius was so clever, he was doing the same work as his brother by the middle of his first year, and getting better marks as well if my memory serves, to get his own back I shouldn't imagine. I was in the year above Drake, didn't know you were named after him did you. By the look of you, I guess it was a final revenge act." Draco visibly fumed and clenched his fist. She was laughing, and threw open another door. "I deemed both useful of course, and both were admitted into my circle. Of course, I knew of their rivalry and used both equally, on minor pranks as well as in bed." 

Malfoy, who had been standing quietly suddenly yelled."What the hell do you mean "in bed"? Are you trying to suggest my father is a… poof!" He was shaking with rage, but Riddle only laughed. 

"Not as such, or rather, not like adolescent boys fantasize over. We were a threesome, once twice, sometimes every day during the week. It was fun, tremendous fun. But that was only during the night, the day time they were in charge of capturing girls for me, using every trick in the book. Mustn't have let the side down you understand," Ginny was laughing evilly at this and he inwardly cringed. "But those nights," he smiled and licked his lips, "They took my breath away. Drake of course was the best, able to perform whenever I wished. Your father we always had to wait for. Of course, I was always in charge of both and they followed my orders. It would always be me that tied the knot, and clinked the handcuffs closed." Tom took a deep breath as she lazed just behind his forehead, apparently satisfied for the moment. Draco was also standing perfectly calm and unmoving. He appeared to have not listened to a single word, rather, was wrestled with a particularly tricky word problem.

"Is that… right." He sensed a sudden dangerous air as each word arrived slowly and perfectly formed. "Well, the things you never knew, hmmm…" He placed a finger up to his mouth and started to speak again, then stopped and walked closer. He took in a breath and spoke once more, a little smile lingering on his lips, as if he had just heard a particularly amusing joke, and was just re-thinking the punch line to himself. "The only difference Riddle, is that, unlike my father I refuse to take orders unless I see something in it for myself, and as much as I believe you are a wonderful shag I really don't think it is what I would prefer." He was dangerously close now and Tom could smell his minty fresh breath. His next words were whispered under a haze of it, "What I would prefer is your bloodied corpse," 

He walked away before Goyle preformed the first blow. 

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Living is easy with eyes closed,

misunderstanding all you see.

It's getting hard to be someone where it all works out;

it doesn't matter much to me.

********************************************************

Tom could barely crack one eye open to view the visitor. She was sobbing gently behind the closed eye, but he was shocked to view the real Ginny with both eye's wide with horror.

"Oh Tom," **s**he whispered, "Why did you have to aggravate him?" Tom was not sure that opening his mouth would be any good for his over all pain limit, so he stayed silent. "I don't know if I can fix this, I mean, you're bleeding practically everywhere, and…" She broke off with a gasp as she touched the head wound, he shuddered violently and she drew back. "How on earth are you still conscious? God, this is all my fault**.**" She bent down and kissed his cheek, then worked her way down to his mouth, licking off the blood as she went. Somewhere between her soft kisses Tom slipped away to the back of his head, to escape the pain and guilt the real was Ginny bestowing on him. While there he found skull-like-Ginny, still sobbing, her hands covering her eyes. He hesitated for a minute then knelt down and put his arm around her, as this was all his fault he might as well stay here for a while.

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To be continued…

A/N: Well? What did you think? Much darker then the earlier one's, which might very easily have veered into utter fluff. (Tom and Ginny parading around in sun drenched fields and picnicking in fields of golden sunflowers. Someone pass the vomit bucket, please!) But this is the DarkArts people, and you're reading a Californian Poppy creation to boot, what did you expect? Anyway, if there is any younger reader's I'm gonna scold you, if there's any old readers I encourage you very strongly to leave a review! Oh, and this is dedicated to Rhi *snuggles* love you babe! And Ivy of course, who I am dedicating the entire series to! If there is a series at the end of this… or will there be another century to wait for the next one…? 


	5. Never pay the reaper with love only

It was a Monday, 

When my lover told me,

Never pay the reaper with,

Love only. 

Her voice was the first thing that made him look up. Skull-like Ginny was unmoving, staring at him, her eyes forever unblinking, forever unforgiving, but that's not what was drawing him back. He cracked his eyelids open and then shut them hurriedly as the dim light from a wand blinded his enlarged pupils. 

"You can't do this he needs to be taken care of properly…" _Her… it really was her, but she's upset. _

He withdrew inside himself again and stared at the little figure rocking back and forth. 

"She's crying!" He exclaimed, the words bouncing around his skull. She just shrugged and stood up, stretching lightly, flexing her long fingers. She turned on her heel, and walked towards the doors. He made no move to stop her; they'd been opened before. She seemed to still relish in them though, clapping as the cobwebbed shadows whipped around her. It was the only reality she could ever know dream created as she was. He watched sadly as she left, the grey robe whipping around her bare ankles. 

He turned back to the voice and managed to open his eyes even fuller.

"I can do anything I want! You are mine" the arrogant voice hissed, "Never forget that," There was a crash and he could hear a light sobbing.

"What if he never wakes up?" her voice still held a strength of sorts, cold and dignified, "_Daddy_ won't be very happy, will he?" 

A hard slap and the slamming of a door. The sobbing had stopped. 

Inside tom's head, anger began to build, and anger is strength. He began to regain control of his muscles and nerves. He was still unable to grasp his motor functions, but at least he could speak, to an extent.

"Gi…Gi…?" he had trouble remembering how to form the words, his mouth rebellious as he tried to speak. "Ginny?"

There was movement in the shadows, and his eyes began to take in proper details out of the fuzz. His nerves were gradually clocking in senses. He was lying on a hard mattress, a woolen blanket thrown over him. Beneath this, a harsh cotton was directly next to his skin. 

"Tom?" despite her earlier strength, her voice was raw and rough. "Did you speak?" The light shifted as she stood shakily to her feet. As she walked towards him, he was sickened by the changed in her. Her hair was lank, grown out of its style and left to hang limply by her face. Her face was pale and thin, with dark circles making her eyes look hollow. Her general appearance was not improved by her robes, which billowed around her in the darkest black, the material shining from the light from her wand. It seemed to be designed to give the appearance that the wearer had no figure at all, though the shadows might have made it worse. But what most shocked him were her eyes, once cold and proud now they were brimming with tears, a broken figure with a light purple bruise blossoming on her left cheek bone. 

Inside Skull-like Ginny lurked in the shadows, afraid and broken, she looked through his eyes with as much despair as he, stroking the dark mark that was etched onto her right cheek. 

He tried to smile, but was unsure of how to do it. 

"Yeah…" he wasn't sure where to go from there, but Ginny seemed to know the rules. She hesitated at first, then bent down awkwardly and kissed his forehead.

"Welcome back," she croaked, "Had a nice sleep?" there was a faint cut over her left eye, hidden by her hair. He could see it if he closed one eye. It was an ashy pink and was well healed, but he could not remember seeing it before.

"How long have I been down?" 

"Four months…" she bit her lip, as if mentioning the passing of time was hard. He wanted to reach up to her, comfort her in some way, but it was impossible even to raise his hand. She saw it in his eyes though and she blushed. "I'm sorry… it's just been hard you know? To watch you day after day, cold and unmoving. And after everything I'd done to get you here, all I could do was watch you slip silently away." She absent-mindedly stroked his hand and he desperately tried to grip it. She smiled at the movement and sighed. "I'd come down everyday and find no change. We…He… he thought you were dead, but I knew you were too strong to be killed, you had to be…for…" She stopped suddenly and looked ashamed, like a guilty child caught with her hand in the biscuit jar. 

"For what?" he probed, but she ignored the question and stood up, gripping the wall as she did so. Tom was appalled; Draco had hurt her that badly? She walked a little distance away and returned with a soft chair.

"I spend so much time down here, I'm surprised I didn't just move in." she said, sitting slowly down. "Sorry, but the floor was getting cold." He just nodded.

"You asked me before, how I released you. Do you still want to know?"

"Yes…" he felt unsure why she had brought this up.

__

To punish you more hissed the girl inside his head, and looking up at her face, he was afraid that this was the truth.

********************************************************

Draco curled up on the cushioned train seat and pulled out the diary. It was safe here, no one ever dared disturb him or try to share his compartment. Crabbe and Goyle were up the front terrorizing the first years, so he had blissful peace for the rest of the journey. He stroked the book again with his wand and allowed the sparks to flow freely. He had sat like this every night since his father had first bestowed the task on him. 

He watched as the cover mended and the engraving begin to shine. The hole had long since closed, and pages had appeared from where they had once been torn. The ink too drained back into the pages, though the blood held fast, a constant reminder that it was Harry Potter he had to beat. He felt the familiar fatigue as the diary drained his power. At the beginning, the healing was quick and he enjoyed the feeling of power rushing from him. Now, he had barely enough energy to keep the wand up against the book. He knew he desperately needed to sleep, that nights spent draining his magic into a book were hardly the best way to stay healthy, but it was an addiction now. He had performed something his father had been unable to do. The dark lord had visited him personally on the night before he had returned to school, after his Christmas holidays, and hinted great things in his future. He would be better then his father could even dream, and this book held all the promises. 

The world was blurring again. He was well used to it by now, and enjoyed the swirly feelings. He stared once across the empty compartment and then up at the door. A face was peering anxiously through it and he dropped the book. The magic connection immediately severed and he regained some of his strength. He leapt up from his seat and pulled the door open in time to see a slim red headed girl racing down the corridor and into one of the far compartments. He leaned against the doorframe and let her run. He knew who she was, and what she was after. A father like his was extremely loose lipped about all that went on in the school. He also knew that she would be back. He smirked and went back into his room, shutting the door behind him.

********************************************************

Ginny lay shaking beneath her covers in the dim gloom of her bed. She had closed the curtains to shut out the excited chatter of her roommates. She couldn't think about boys and busts at the moment. At the feast she could barely think about food either and had passed most of her plate down to Crookshanks who had sat hissing beneath the table. The others didn't notice. Victor Krum had presented Hermione with an enchanted mirror during the holidays and the trio had been busy seeing what Snape's bedroom looked like, even if Ron had spent most of the dinner scowling angrily whenever Hermione's back was turned.

The last light had extinguished itself and the dorm lay quiet in the musty gloom of a room who had been shut up for three months. She opened the curtains a crack and peeped out. All the beds surrounding her had their curtains shut and a faint sound of breathing hung over them; punctuated only by the faint snores of Faye, who suffered from sinus problems. She lifted her quaking legs out of the safety of her blankets and stepped unsteadily onto the stone floor. It was icy cold, but she ignored it and walked as quietly as she could out the door and down the twisting steps that led into the common room. It too was deserted and the fire long since gone out. Scattered on the floor however, she could make out small lumps of pink fluff. Her brothers idea of a joke no doubt. She was incredibly careful not to step on them, one wrong move and the burst out a very loud version of 'La Coukaracha' . She shuddered inwardly at the memories. 

When she reached the portrait hole she realized that she had not thought this through at all. Fluff alarms were peanuts compared to Filch… and Snape at three in the morning. Harry, she would have to ask Harry to help. Or perhaps just borrow something… 

She padded carefully back across the room, leaped over the fourth and ninth steps up to the boys part of the dorm and leapt over the door jamb to land crouched in Harry's Dorm. (She had been The Twins sister long enough to be paranoid.) Endless discussion about what exactly this room looked like had led her to believe quite a few things. What was left out of course, was the fact that it was much messier then theirs and smelt like old socks. She hoped, skipped and jumped over such items as; Neville's toad, a handle off a broom stick, A book on how to make a million Galleons, a book on how to make a Billion galleons and a book on how to spend 20 sickles. All of which probably had 'Property of Ron Weasley' stamped on the inside cover. 

The last bed was Harry's, a Firebolt leaning against it, the gold writing glinting in the beams of moonlight shining in from the window. She tiptoed over it, avoiding a multitude of odd socks and half-eaten chocolate frogs as she did so. She hesitated when she touched the curtain though. What if he was awake? Or worse still… what if he was asleep… She would have to touch him then. She walked around to the over side of the bed and was about to peer inside the gloom when her knee bashed against something; Harry's Trunk. She opened it gingerly, but it appeared to be unprotected. It too smelt of old socks, but of nicer smells as well, like fresh grass and expensive after-shave. She rooted through it, unearthing a broken sneeker-scope, twenty magazines about Quidditch in one form or another, a comic she didn't recognize called 'The Beano' and a broom stick repair kit. There at the very bottom, however, she found the Invisibility cloak. She grinned happily and pulled it out of its hiding place. It felt soft and smooth on her hands. Just like it had when Harry had shown it to her first. She shook it out to place it around her shoulders when an old, yellowed parchment fell on to the floor. She picked it up and saw it was just that. An old wrinkled bit of paper. She sighed with disappointment when something started shouting at her from behind her eyes. She had seen it before, in Ron's room, half hidden by two guilty faces and Ron's angry one. _'Get out Ginny!'_ she obliged, slowly exiting the room, feeling once more left out. But she had heard something before she had closed the door. _'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'. _It had seemed absolute nonsense at the time but…. 

********************************************************

Tom was feeling more human now, Ginny's soft voice awakening him to the world. He could now sit up and was leaning against the wall, the blanket pulled firmly across his shoulders. She on the other hand seemed to be drooping. Her voice was weakening as she spoke, and became raspy, sounding like a memory of a thousand sleepless nights. Her hair drooped over her face like a mask, and she did nothing to move it away. 

__

Why bother after all? Her whole posture seemed to scream. _Why bother when there is nothing left to be happy about? Why bother when this is just a story to you, but to me it is my life?_

He didn't touch her, though he craved to. Perhaps she might have told it different if he had offered some comfort, perhaps it might have all been different if he had made the effort to stay with her while she revealed what she was seeing in her minds eye. But he didn't, and the silence lasted for a long time before she finally spoke again.

"I… I eventually found the entarnce to the Common Room. Almost scared myseklf silly in the dark though… I was sure Flitch would see my wand if I light it… I could see him though, from his hair. It glinted in the light behind him. He was standing in the entrance way, he was waiting for me… I don't know how, but he knew I would come…"

********************************************************

And he did. In one hand he held the diary, the other he reached out to her and grasped her elbow roughly. She didn't struggle, but allowed herself be led inside…

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To Be Continued…

Please, if you read it, why not review it? It's just a way of saying thank you to the writer for entertaining you for a while.


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